The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 78

The two women entered the dressing room. Qiu Fu’s hands were shaking so violently she could barely sift through the clothes; the scene at the river had terrified her to her core. For a moment, she had truly felt her breath leave her body.

Knowing Qiu Fu was still in shock, Su Mo reached out and gently stroked her hair. “It’s alright now,” she soothed. “What happened just now was an accident. No one could have predicted it.”

Qiu Fu’s voice remained a raspy, trembling whisper. “Do you have any idea how scared I was? If you hadn’t summoned your mecha in time, if you hadn’t made it back.”

She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the thought.

Her body was still racked with tremors and her head throbbed with a dull ache. In that split second of crisis, her pheromones had spiked into a state of riotous instability despite the suppression patch she wore. Her heart felt as though it were thumping against her ribs, completely out of control.

“I was so scared. Next time you do something like that, could you please think of me?”

“We only just made this official. If something happened to you, what would I do? How could I possibly accept it?”

Ignoring the fact that Su Mo was still soaking wet, Qiu Fu spun around and threw herself into Su Mo’s arms. Tears fell in heavy droplets. Omegas were naturally more sensitive than most, and after the whiplash of such intense terror followed by sudden relief, she felt as though she might faint.

She weakly balled her fists and began thumping them against Su Mo’s chest, trying to vent the lingering horror. Su Mo held her close, allowing the girl to strike her until the emotional storm began to pass.

When Qiu Fu’s strength finally ebbed, Su Mo whispered, “It’s okay. It’s okay now. It’s over.”

Qiu Fu looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Never again promise me.”

“Mm. I promise.”

Su Mo pulled her tighter, her hand rhythmically stroking Qiu Fu’s hair. She allowed her own pheromones to release—a protective, grounding scent that intertwined with Qiu Fu’s. As they merged, the air took on a fragrance like creamy magnolia.

The intimate fusion of their pheromones acted as a powerful sedative for Qiu Fu’s frayed nerves. Wrapped in that scent, the girl finally began to calm; the shaking in her hands subsided.

Once she had regained her composure, she stepped back from the embrace. “I’ll find you those clothes. You’ll catch a chill otherwise.”

Even though autumn was approaching and the weather wasn’t truly cold yet, Su Mo felt the genuine warmth of Qiu Fu’s concern. She let out a soft smile.

“Alright.”

After handing over the fresh clothes, Qiu Fu stepped outside to give Su Mo some privacy.

Su Mo changed quickly. The clothes weren’t her usual style, they were light and refreshing but it was clear Qiu Fu had impeccable taste.

Not bad.

In certain biological aspects, there wasn’t a vast difference between an Alpha and an Omega; even as a female Alpha, Su Mo simply possessed a more athletic, solid build, with little outward change otherwise.

Meanwhile, the director had immediately called the police. The culprit had been apprehended on the spot in front of dozens of witnesses, so he didn’t resist. He confessed everything immediately.

He turned out to be a “sasaeng” (obsessive) fan of the starlet. He had used his job as a crew member to infiltrate the set. Because he was usually quiet and unassuming, no one had paid him any mind.

His motive for the sudden attack? He had discovered the night before that the starlet was dating a member of the post-production team. To him, a “traffic star” like her had no right to be in a relationship.

“How could she betray us? We love her so much! we gave her everything, and in the end, what did she choose? A nobody! He’s poor, he’s ugly and he’s a Beta!”

The man’s expression grew increasingly manic as he spoke; he was clearly mentally unstable.

Su Mo frowned when she heard the report. While the act itself proved his instability, the timing was far too convenient.

“Investigate him,” Su Mo said, her voice turning cold. “See if anyone is pulling his strings from the shadows.”

Her eyes were dark and calculating. “The fact that he was conveniently diagnosed with a mental break right after this happens is suspicious. His target might not have been that girl at all.”

Su Mo looked out at the set, deep in thought. Someone had specifically chosen to cause chaos right when she arrived. Combined with the Zerg incident during her last shoot and various other “accidents,” it seemed that every time she joined a production, something went wrong.

The mastermind was likely trying to create a narrative that she was a “jinx,” or perhaps they intended to frame her directly.

Their ultimate goal was her death and the collapse of the Su family. Since the Old Master was too difficult to strike at, they were targeting her, the only Su currently active in the public eye. It was far easier to hunt her.

This wasn’t an accident; it was a move on the chessboard. But this was a level of conspiracy that Pu Ying might not be able to uncover through standard channels.

Pu Ying’s expression was grim. After hanging up the phone, she erupted in a rare display of fury that terrified her subordinates.

“Investigate! Scour every lead! I don’t care who is behind this, I want their head on a platter!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The subordinates scrambled away, trembling.

Pu Ying tightened her jaw and turned her attention to a person she had never considered a peer before. After a long moment of contemplation, she dialed the number.

“I need your special clearance,” Pu Ying stated.

The person on the other end gave a light, dismissive chuckle, seemingly unimpressed by Pu Ying’s demand.

Pu Ying’s voice turned deadly serious. “Tan Ya, you owe us a debt of gratitude. Su Mo is in danger, and the Su family is facing a crisis. Right now, you are the only one with the reach to help her.”

At the mention of Su Mo, Tan Ya slowly sat upright. The casual indifference in her eyes vanished, replaced by sharp focus. If Pu Ying was stooping to ask for help, the situation had to be dire.

Though Tan Ya had been working closely with the Military Department lately, she was first and foremost a businesswoman. She had kept a close eye on the Su family. Even though a mysterious group had been suppressing their interests since Su Mo took over forcing them to abandon several sectors, the Su family remained the elite of the Interstellar wealthy.

She had spent her days wondering how to reach Su Mo’s height. Now, Pu Ying was saying Su Mo was in peril?

It seemed impossible, but where Su Mo was concerned, she couldn’t take any risks. Pu Ying wasn’t the type to joke about such things.

“Tell me everything. In detail.”

As Pu Ying recounted the events, Tan Ya’s mind whirred. She laced her fingers together, her gaze turning heavy.

“If what you’re saying is true, we aren’t dealing with a common criminal. This might be coming from within the Military Department itself. That’s likely why Sister Su warned you. This isn’t about some starlet, the target is the Su family itself.”

Pu Ying was paralyzed by a mix of concern and exhaustion. With the sheer volume of work she’d been handling lately, her mind felt sluggish, struggling to keep pace with the rapidly shifting situation.

“Don’t worry too much,” Tan Ya comforted her. “Sister Su will find a way.”

Her faith in Su Mo was unwavering.

Pu Ying hesitated before speaking. “The Su family’s position in the Federation is currently hanging by a thread. The Military Department has allied with several other families to exert pressure on us. While the Old Master is doing his best to navigate these waters, he is aging, and his health isn’t what it used to be.”

She knew she shouldn’t reveal so much, but she felt that Tan Ya unlike those who were powerless to help might actually take action.

Tan Ya felt a pang of helplessness. “I understand everything you’re saying. But Pu Ying, I am currently allied with the Military Department myself. I can’t overstep my bounds; my own footing there isn’t fully secure yet. Give me some time.”

“I’ll reach out to my contacts to gauge the intentions of the higher-ups. As long as the order didn’t come from the very top, there’s always room for maneuver.”

As long as the Grand Marshal hadn’t personally issued the command, there was still hope.

Pu Ying’s anxiety didn’t subside; she felt as though something significant was transpiring just out of her sight. “I hope so. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong here.”

“I have to go.”

After hanging up, Tan Ya’s expression turned solemn. She reached out to her highest-level contact within the military to tentatively inquire about the Su family. To her surprise, this individual seemed unaware of any targeted campaign against the Sus—in fact, they even spoke of the family with a degree of respect.

This confirmed Tan Ya’s suspicions: the Military Department’s stance toward the Su family was inconsistent. The waters were deeper than they appeared.

She forwarded her findings to Pu Ying, telling her to wait while she probed other sources.

Another military officer she spoke with was privy to some of the internal secrets. Though he technically shouldn’t have shared them with Tan Ya, for reasons unknown, he decided to speak freely.

“This isn’t an initiative from the top,” he began. “The Grand Marshal is advanced in years. Even though he is close to.” He trailed off, but Tan Ya understood the implication of a looming transition. She nodded, signaling for him to continue.

The officer went on: “He is the Grand Marshal, after all—a legend in combat. He focuses on the big picture and military strategy; he doesn’t concern himself with the petty squabbles of merchants and noble families. In recent years, he has stepped back even further, delegating power to his subordinates so he can focus on training a successor.”

“However,” he added, his expression souring, “a successor isn’t built overnight. It requires patience, time, and above all, talent.”

Judging by his look of frustration, Tan Ya realized that whoever was being groomed clearly lacked that talent.

Could it be that person? she wondered.

“Currently, the upper echelons are split into three factions,” the officer explained. “The first faction is the ‘Purge’ group. They want to suppress the established families to seize their wealth and networks, forcing them to surrender the bulk of their assets for ‘public use.’ They claim this will fund the military and provide for the refugees.”

It was a blatant move to bully the old-money families, aiming to dismantle their influence and centralize power. But the heads of those families were no fools; they would never agree to such unreasonable demands.

“The second faction is neutral. The third is the opposition. After all, wealth doesn’t fall from the sky. These families have existed for generations because they made massive contributions to the Interstellar Federation. To discard them so ruthlessly is a move that cuts deep.”

The officer’s voice betrayed a hint of resentment. He belonged to the opposition; having come from a family background himself, he knew the benefits such structures provided and found it impossible to abandon them.

“The situation with the Su family? That’s the work of the Purge faction.”

They were using the Su family to “kill the chicken to scare the monkeys”—a public execution intended to intimidate other families. If the others didn’t fall in line, they would suffer the same fate.

What they hadn’t expected was the Su family’s sheer tenacity. Their desperate, tooth-and-nail resistance had completely derailed the faction’s carefully laid plans.